A Question of Principle
by C.C. Machevelli
Summary: Carmen comes face to face with multi-millionare Jida von Chera Jerard, who enters the criminal underworld and offers the world famous thief some real competition.
1. Beginnings

Beginnings  
  
  
For a sneaky property crime to produce a thrill, the person must understand that   
it incorporates several challenges that have personal, existentially fundamental,   
significance outside the act of theft. The experienced profundity of the event   
-both as deeply moving in the moment of success or failure and as one of the   
rare, brief events of private life that can be recalled vividly years, even   
decades, later -embodies the awareness of its multiple metaphoric implications.  
  
-Jack Katz  
The Seductions of Crime;  
Moral and Sensual  
Attractions in Doing Evil"   
1988  
  
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, New York ( 1:00am, GMT -5 )  
  
From inside the museum an undisturbed calm seemed to resonate, broken only   
momentarily by an occasional light from a motion sensor as the security staff   
did their hourly check. The two story building held several collections with   
several hundred on display at any given time. The dulled footsteps of one of the   
security team clicked softly against the marble tile as the illuminated beam   
from a flashlight bounced from place to place, and a yawn escaped from the mouth   
of its owner. A uniformed security guard hurriedly finished his 20 minute walk   
around, and once he had circled the last exhibit on the second floor he spoke   
with an exhausted tone into the hand held radio transmitter and said,  
  
" All clear on the second floor. I hope you got the coffee brewing, its going to   
be a long night."   
  
His partner mumbled back an inaudible reply as he headed toward the stairs to   
the ground floor. There was a moment of silence before a gloved hand grasped the   
wire mesh opening of an airduct grate from an adjoining room and a confident   
voice whispered,  
  
"Did you hear that? Just finished the hourly check. We have approximately 20   
minutes to get in and out before they even begin to expect a thing." Another   
voice crackled a moment from the headset before becoming clear, a low soft   
feminine tone,   
  
"Okay, now. Motion sensors and proximity alarms are down. Your boys are still   
working on looping the parallel circuit for the cameras...and I'm monitoring   
radio transmissions from the control desk personally. But I'm also picking up   
this weird interference, like someone close is transmitting in clear. Hmmm.   
Probably some old ham radio operator. Just get in there and do whatcha gotta do,   
and get out. We almost blew the last heist in Berlin..."  
  
"Relax Kal, this is going to be easier. You just do what I pay you to do and   
I'll be just fine. Are those cameras down yet? Or must I do everything myself?"   
  
A mockingly sarcastic whisper purred in reply,   
  
  
" They're still working on it. Who'd you get to counter electronic surveillance?   
The Three Stooges? Next time leave the important decisions to me. We've wasted   
almost a minute...wait, okay, cameras are down. Do the deed, dude."  
  
At that moment the vent swung open and a darkened figure lowered quickly to the   
floor. It stepped aside as others followed and looked toward the faint   
sillouhette of their leader. Only a momentary flash of coppery colored eyes   
betrayed his position before he moved into visibility and motioned them into   
action. While his cohorts seemed to move hastily toward the limestone reliefs   
positioned along the surrounding walls, his posture never betrayed its   
nonchalant, languid fluidity as he walked toward one of the Assyrian artifacts,   
seemingly unaware of the events which transpired around him. A strand of dark   
brown hair fell across his face as he removed a black leather glove and pressed   
his fingers to the cold beige limestone of a human headed winged lion. He stood   
a moment admiring the detailed lines carved in stone, running his hand along the   
timeless statue, feeling the alterations of smoothness and the insignificant   
places where age had softly worn away the surface and bristled a fine grit   
beneath the fingertips. The structure seemed to stare right through him, a gaze   
transfixed from 883 B.C., frozen in place with an eternal stature and grace. A   
powerful emotion welled up inside from this single moment, as though a hidden   
taboo had been violated in this one single act, and a sudden realization to the   
origin of the artifact filled the mind with awe inspiring consequence. The   
figure that had once involuntarily witnessed the rise and fall of Nimrud as it   
stood at gateway of the palace of Ashurnasirpal II, supporting the archways to   
the great Assyrian capital, now belonged to him. Heavy eyelids closed over the   
piercing orange hued orbs as he prolonged the profundity of the moment just as   
an all too familiar voice broke the silence of intense concentration,  
  
  
"Hello? Jida? What are you doing down there? We can take a tour of the museum   
during normal business hours! Are you ignoring me again? You've got less than   
ten minutes! Get the hydraulic lifts in place and get out! I don't think the   
morons working on the alarm system can prolong the automatic dialer much longer!   
Jida? Are you listening to me? Jida!..."   
  
Somehow, Kalista always knew when to ruin a perfect moment. He yanked the   
headset from his ears and switched the power off as one of his henchmen   
approached him and cautiously interjected,  
  
"Boss? We're ready to go. Are we taking this one too?"   
Jida didn't bother to turn and face his employee as he mumbled,  
  
" I hate her. I really do. Hate, hate, hate. Mental note, fire my administrative   
assistant the moment I find a suitable replacement."   
  
"Excuse me?" Jida turned only half hiding the snarl on his lips and snapped,  
  
"Yes, especially this one. Start the evacuation." Another approached and began   
to object,  
  
" Mr. Jerard, I don't think we have time to..." The darkened figure stepped   
defensively in response and snarled,  
  
" I don't pay you to think, I pay you to act! Is that understood? Good. Now get   
it done and start the exit procedures I briefed you on, or did those   
instructions lapse inside your minuscule brains as well?"  
  
  
Both nodded a negative response as they cowered back from him and turned to   
complete their orders. As the blinding light from the arc of a torch finished   
its purpose of providing an exit from the rooftop, Jida froze like an animal who   
suddenly fathoms it is being watched by a predator. His henchmen did the same,   
alarmed by this sudden change in his normally casual disposition. The hairs on   
the back of his neck stood on end and an over developed instinct crept across   
his skin.  
  
  
They were not alone.  
  
Jida motioned silently to exit, his reaction hastened by this unknown element   
and he switched the headset on temporarily and whispered,  
  
"Kali, load the cargo quickly and get out of here. Meet me at the safehouse in   
Atlanta." The sudden sense of urgency stunned her and the momentary uncertainty   
was overpowering. Nothing ever scared Jida von Chera Jerard. Nothing. A   
terrified voice responded,  
  
"What's going on down there? I have been trying to reach you! There's someone   
else..."  
  
Jida switched the headset off once again and turned as the last of the   
collection was hoisted through the opening to the roof and loaded into the cargo   
bay of the unlit aircraft carrier. Once he was reassured of the safety of the   
last item, he turned again toward the darkness of the now vacant room and an   
overwhelming curiosity took hold of him. There was an odd reassurance in knowing   
that even if he were caught in the act of theft, his collection was almost   
complete. An earlier crime had secured other reliefs from ancient Nineveh into   
his possession, despite the fact that three of his "employees" had made the   
costly mistake of disobeying a direct order. Incarceration would prove in the   
end that he had been correct, and Jida was not forthcoming in forgiveness. Yet   
in contrast to the eccentric millionare's coldness, few ever betrayed his   
involvement. Jida never needed to remind anyone with little more than his   
cutting voice and disarming stare as to who was in charge. But now, something   
unplanned was taking place. An element of chaos thrown into his working   
machination of precision. He wasn't without fear and little of it showed if any   
within the powerful frame. He pressed closer to the wall behind him and held a   
deep breath in, controlling the pounding heartbeat inside of his chest.  
  
A soft indiscriminate creak broke the reverie of silence, and his ears strained   
to find its origin. Jida slowly slide towards the opening to his right and   
stopped short of stepping into view as a shadow glided past him and continued in   
the direction of the wing which housed nineteenth century European paintings and   
sculptures. He held his breath and swallowed the lump of fear which had settled   
in his throat, just as the light from the auxiliary system revealed the   
mysterious interloper's identity. The trademark red and gold encircled fedora   
and trenchcoat could only mean one thing.  
  
Carmen Sandiego had chosen this night to break into the famous museum as well.   
There was a confident strength behind the silent way she seemed to move toward   
her intended object, pausing only to admire another postimpressionist painting   
with a brief smile before returning to her task at hand.   
  
Jida moved closer to view this unplanned spectacle. The thought of capture and   
prosecution slipped from his mind as he became entranced with the rare glimpse   
to watch the world famous thief at work. An almost giddy childlike fascination   
drew his attentions, like the snooping eye of an artful voyeur who watches what   
was never meant to be seen. There was an incredible grace and style to her   
movements, as she removed the painting from its position and set a curled piece   
of paper in its place.   
  
He ducked swiftly into the darkness as VILE henchmen approached the scene   
and Carmen left the left wing of the building. Jida waited silently until the   
silence beckoned once again with its false sense of security. He peered out into   
the breezeway and made the assessment that he was truly alone, before moving   
into the west wing of the second floor. An uncontrollable urge took command of   
his better senses as he reached out to remove the carefully planned clue from   
its place. Glancing around again to reassure himself, Jida uncurled the paper as   
a sly knowing smirk dancing fleetingly across his lips. A strange feeling seemed   
to descend upon him as he glanced around the room once more and a thousand   
thoughts danced through his mind. He gently replaced the paper back where Carmen   
had left it, as the alarm sirens broke the calm of the moment, he turned, eyes   
half closed and walked casually from the scene of the crime. 


	2. Scene of the Crime

Scene of the Crime   
  
  
A calm began to settle once again as police milled back and forth questioning the guards on duty and filling out the necessary paperwork. A young red head with quick intelligent green eyes scanned the room with a questioning intensity of thought before turning to the detective from the NYPD and asking,  
  
"The security guards said Carmen was in here?"   
  
"Well, they didn't actually see her in this room. She was spotted in the other section where your brother is. But she did it, no doubt about it. No one else could have pulled a heist of this scale off without the money and equipment. Besides, if you need anymore proof, I can get statements from over two dozen officers who pursued her through the city." She nodded and the look of genuine bewilderment was apparent on her face.  
  
"Her clue pointed to the impressionist painting by Monet, not the Assyrian winged lion sculptures. It makes very little sense." He shrugged and offered,  
  
"Maybe she decided to add to her shopping list since she was already here? Not sure what to tell you, Carmen Sandiego is a little above our league of usual suspects." Ivy smiled as she shook his hand and thanked him before heading down the corridor where Zack caught sight of her and grinned.  
  
"Typical Carmen clue all right. Obscure historical reference with her trademark logo and calling card. She's simply not cutting us any slack on this case. So, what did you find out?"  
  
Ivy shrugged her shoulders and looked at the paper Zack handed her.  
  
"Absolutely nothing. It's done very similair to Carmen's style, minimal damage easily repaired in a day through the ceiling, but that's it. No fingerprints, not a shred of forensic evidence on the scene, but no hint as to why she took it." Zack raised and eyebrow and replied,  
  
"That is odd. I've never known Carmen to not take credit for a theft, especially one we're invited to. It doesn't fit at all into the theme of impressionist exhibits she's taken a liking to this crime spree either. Maybe we are way off on the clue, or she just meant this location. Or maybe the winged lions matched her new livingroom set? "  
  
"Yeah, but she took the painting. The theft just doesn't fit in with the others. I've got a strange feeling maybe someone else was here last night." Zack shook his head,   
  
"No one else was seen except for Carmen, sis. Besides, no one else has the capacity, the clean efficiency to get away with something like that except the lady in red. Maybe it's a prelude to her next theft...we should concentrate on the clue if we're going to get anywhere."  
Ivy sighed and nodded,  
  
"You're right. Okay, this doesn't make any sense to me.  
On a starry night it's just a short trip  
From here to the Hague  
As the crow flies"  
  
Zack snapped his fingers with a sudden insight as he looked toward his sister and interjected,  
  
"The Hague is the seat of government in Amsterdam in the Netherlands! She's been on this impressionist kick for a week now, but which one? Many famous artists came from that region."  
  
The two of them paced momentarily as Ivy's eyes fell to the blank spot on the wall where the Monet had once been, racking her brain for some sort of correlation. She paused in revelation and asked,  
  
"This painting she took from here, what was it called again?"  
  
"Sunflowers. You feeling okay?" He looked to her with a quizzical expression and then it hit him, "Of course! There is also another famous painting of sunflowers by another impressionist artist out of Amsterdam! Vincent Van Gogh! Duh, I'm surprised I didn't see that."  
  
"The starry night reference makes perfect sense now. What I don't get is this "as the crow flies" part." Zack smiled and added,  
  
"That's why you have me. There's a painting in the Stedelijk Museum in Amsterdam called, "A Wheatfield with Crows". What do you want to bet that's where Carmen's heading to next?"  
  
That's a bet I will probably lose. Let's get there and get back all all the stuff she's stolen this week. Maybe then we'll figure out what's she's really up to." 


	3. Atlanta

Atlanta  
  
  
Atlanta, Georgia 9:27am ( E.S.T.)   
A black Dodge Viper raced up in front of the estate before screeching to a halt   
along the circular cobblestone driveway. Jida swung the car door open abruptly,   
squinting momentarily as his vision adjusted and he stepped out into the warm   
Georgia humidity. It was a rare moment when anyone witnessed the wealthy   
multi-industrialist off guard, and in a state of unfashionable disarray. Yet he   
ignored such trivial aspects for the moment, as he walked up the steps in the   
wrinkled deep violet shirt, the wrists unbuttoned and rolled carelessly.   
Although he had had the opportunity to rest once he boarded the private jet from   
New York, it was obvious from the dark rings around his almost vermillion   
bloodshot eyes that something else had occupied his flight. Exhaustion was   
starting to take its toll upon him, but Jida was far from ready to give into   
sleep.   
  
Although this particular property had never served him any profitable purpose   
before, he found it ironic that he had decided not to sell this estate in the   
secluded isolation of the Georgia woods. The death of his father had prompted   
him to sell numerous real estate holdings all over the world, and a last minute   
decision had pulled a few prime locations from the seller's list. For a moment,   
he felt justified in his desicions. No other place could have been more perfect,   
almost a hundred acres of rolling woodlands surrounded the old restored mansion   
which retained a southern flair. It was a home away from home, with just enough   
amenities to operate the recent clandestine operations he was now involved in.   
As he walked up the steps and opened the door, a sarcastic voice greeted him   
from the main room,   
  
"Lookie lookie what the cat dragged in! Only this time I think I'd be more   
pleased with a dead rat. Although right now, I wouldn't be able to tell the   
difference..."   
  
"Spare me the sardonic repetoire for once, Kal. I'm not in the mood. I have a   
headache." He flopped down into one of the burgundy brocade wingback chairs,   
threw his car keys down on a coffee table and reclined back, shielding the dim   
light from his eyes with a one hand. Kalista walked slowly across the room and   
tapped out numbers on a phonepad and sighed,   
  
"The story of my life. So, is there a reason why you didn't call? What exactly   
happened back in the museum? I mean, one minute everything is going fine,   
precisely like we planned it, and remember that radio interference I told you   
about? Well, it wasn't until I heard a transmission from one of the security   
guards from outside saying he spotted something suspicious on the westside of   
the building that I figuired that someone else was there.And what is this little   
habit I hear of? Switching your headset off so you don't have to listen to me?   
Why did you hire me for my expertise if you aren't going to hear it anyways? Why   
do I stay here? Hold on, I'm not finished..."   
  
She flipped a few strands of stray dark hair from her gray eyes as she picked up   
the reciever,   
  
"Yes, hello, what are you doing? Oh, I only ask because I must have ranted for a   
good minute or so waiting for someone to pick up the phone. Send someone over   
with some aspirin and a glass of water and some juice. No,I don't care, suprise   
me. Bye." Kal slapped the phone down and Jida looked on with a bored curiosity,   
"How do you go on like that without taking a breath?" Kalista placed a hand on   
her hip, tapping silvertipped fingernails against black leather pants. "I don't   
know. Practice? Why do you care?"   
  
"I was hoping you'd have passed out by now." An unamused laugh escaped her as   
she walked back to the dark cherrywood desk and thumbed through a stack of   
paperwork,   
  
"So?"   
  
"So what?" Jida snapped in reply.   
  
"What happened?! And what have you been doing? You haven't slept, and that evil   
smirk on your face is really starting to annoy me."   
  
" To our good fortune, it just so happened that Camen Sandiego decided to pay a   
visit to the Met after hours as well. She unknowingly created the perfect   
diversion for my personal escape, and lead the police on a wild chase which drew   
attention away from our activities. I had Ramirez intercept TelNet transmissions   
and we were able to break in on a secured frequency used by none other than   
Crimenet. It seems we have our work cut out for us, the theft of the Nineveh   
Marbles is being blamed on the greatest thief of all time." Kalista's mouth   
dropped for a moment in disbelief,   
  
"You're kidding! You're not! Did she see you?"   
He nodded a negative response,   
"No, I'm confident she didn't. I doubt the adjustor from the insurance company   
will have any problems verifying the theft of the collection I lost in Berlin.   
Too bad really, it was my favorite. Dare to guess what the reimbursement is on   
priceless artifacts from ancient Assyria?"   
  
" I take it I'm getting a raise..." Kalista said as she smiled whimsically.   
  
"Don't press your luck. You're going to need it for the next heist in London. I   
plan on leading Carmen there."   
  
"What?! Have you lost you mind? Why would you want to go and do a thing like   
that?" At that moment one of the houseservants walked in, carrying a tray with   
the requested items and placed it on a small table next to Jida, clearly   
uncomfortable in her gestures. Kalista waved her away and she nodded and quickly   
left the room. Jida reached over and took the aspirin and a few gulps of the   
water before saying,   
  
"An individual such a Carmen Sandiego could prove highly useful to my cause."   
  
Kali sat down in the burgundy leather chair behind the desk and scoffed,   
  
"Oh sure. And what makes you think you can convince her? Ever read her dossier?   
She will laugh at you, and I'll be right there beside her. Besides, every law   
enforcement agency in the world can't find her. What makes you think you can?"   
  
"Exactly how much do I pay you to doubt me?"   
  
"Not enough. Stop avoiding my question."  
  
Jida got up and placed the glass of juice on the desk for her and walked over to a nonlighted fireplace,   
  
"I don't have to worry about finding her. She will find me. I have seen the clue   
she left behind for ACME. Now, with all the information I've gathered from my   
night of hacking, I'm convinced that Sandiego will not be pleased with having   
the blame of a crime she did not commit placed on her. I made a call to the   
Netherlands and had one of my agents beat her to the scene of her next crime.   
When she steals the next item on her list, she will find my clue. And then, my   
little game will begin."   
  
"That's what I like about you Jerard. Never stopping to let reality get in the   
way of your dreams. By the way, precious metals are way down. On the upside,   
that little hostile takeover thing you did six months ago on J&D Enterprises was   
a very smart move. Sales on mainframes are up, and by supplying chips from that   
little company you bullied and bought out in the Phillipines we've cut   
production costs in half. In the mood to sign some papers?"   
  
"No."   
"Okay, then my work is done."   
  
"Did you hear a word of what I said?"   
  
"No."   
  
Jida glared at her from across the room without saying a word. Kalista let out   
an exasperated plea,   
  
"Oh, come on! You had your fun, got to play cops and robbers a few nights in a   
row. Let's quit now, before we get in way over our heads! Please? I don't want   
to go back to prison, it wasn't exactly the getaway vacation of my dreams. How   
am I go to explain this to my parole officer? He'll never believe this. This   
isn't the run of the mill criminal we're used to. What do you do on my days off?   
Lick the lead dust from the outdated miniblinds in your office? Reality check!   
This is the Carmen Sandiego! I mean, you're good, after all, you have me, but   
this is plain madness. I'll quit, I swear I will."   
  
"You'll do no such thing. Isn't that a stipulation of being a parolee? Maintain   
stable employment?"Jida gave her a familiar glare which she returned and he   
grinned in reply,   
  
" And just think, who would hire someone with a record like yours? I would hate   
to think what your P.O. would say if he found out you were walking out on a   
promising career like this! I know, I'll call him right now and ask him   
personally..."   
  
The look on Kalista's face changed visably as she snapped,   
  
"You evil, underhanded, manipulative,...I hate you! I knew it! You didn't hire   
me for my administrative skills! You hired me because I was a convicted felon!   
How did you find out? Who was it?"   
  
Jida grinned a knowing smile and walked over to the desk where Kalista sat and   
leaned his hands against the desktop, squinting his eyes,   
  
"Now now, I knew all about you before you went to prison. You worked for   
D'Angelo and helped him take over what was left of my father's smuggling   
business in Mexico. And when D'Angelo needed a scapegoat to take the fall for   
that diamond heist he made sure to leave you holding the bag. Do you think it   
was luck that got you out of a fifteen year sentence? Tell me, Ms. Kalista de   
Silva, how many diamond thieves walk out of a courtroom with a seven year   
reprieve? And after five years, you were released. Care to guess how much I paid   
to speed up your parole hearing? I made sure to have one of my represenatives   
give you a job offer you couldn't refuse. You were a fool to think you got this   
job after a couple of years of clerical work and college. "   
  
Kalista let out a shriek of rage and threw a crystal paperwieght across the room, shattering the object in a sharp crash. Jida closed his eyes and crossed his   
arms and sighed,   
  
"I hope you know that's coming out of your next check..."   
  
"That's it, I've had it! Does everything and everyone around you get dragged in   
by dirty tricks and blackmail? I don't owe you a thing! You want to make the   
call? Go ahead, I'm pretty sure the authorites would like to hear about a   
fraudelent insurance claim on a collection of Assyrian art! Say, if you don't   
have a good criminal attorney, I can always give you the number to mine! "   
  
She grabbed her purse from beneath the desk and began to hurriedly stuff various   
knick knacks from around the room inside.   
  
" Oh, Kal, stop looking at me like that. I've waited a long time to do this. Put   
your purse down and stop this, you're not leaving. " Jida crossed his arms and   
stated in tone which others usually cringed at, but was deaf upon Kalista's   
ears, "I forbid you to leave. Put that back right now. Hey, that doesn't belong   
to you, that's mine! You are really pushing me! "   
  
When it was apparent that she seemed unaffected by mere threats he relented slightly and sighed,   
  
"Okay, okay, I admit it. I can't do this without you. Will you come back here?"   
  
He followed her to the door and paused a moment before giving an almost pleading   
stare and asked,   
  
"Please?"   
  
Kalista stopped a moment in the doorway and looked up.Thier eyes met,   
compromising little in response. Jida lifted an eyebrow slightly and softened   
his fixed gaze and his eyes glinted a warm coppery hue. She looked away   
involuntarily and muttered in a subtle tone,   
  
" Did you just say what I think you said?" Jida's voice even echoed his   
expression, softened and almost submissive, stating one thing, but stating   
something else.   
  
"No."   
  
Kalista sighed and rubbed her tired eyes as she took a deep breath and slowly   
let it out. She didn't bother to look up as she mumbled in reply,   
  
"All right, fine. I'll do it. I must be crazy. But of all the thieves in the   
world, why me?"   
  
Jida smiled and retorted, a tinge of victory in his expression,   
  
"I knew how you felt about D'Angelo. I knew that within a year after I hired   
you, that you would help to bring him down. Who else would know the ins and outs   
of his smuggling operation? All I wanted was his business, but you wanted   
revenge. And I profited."   
  
"You're unbelievable. You know, for a moment I thought I actually heard a pulse   
from that nonexistant heart. I suppose the death of Magnus von Chera Jerard had   
nothing to do with this. I mean, if my father was murdered ..."   
  
" He was never my father. He was responsible for his own death. It was business,   
nothing more." Jida turned away for a moment and added, " You don't cheat drug   
runners out of thier money. He knew better. I never approved of what he did. And   
he never approved of me."   
  
There seemed a moment of uncomfortable silence, one which they had both found   
between them and this time it was Jida who was was quick to break it,   
  
" It was a mutual dislike. Oh, and by the way, you can give me my keys back."   
  
"Oh, you saw that? See, your getting better at this already."   
  
Kalista reached into her purse and threw the car keys to him which he caught with one hand.   
  
"Now, get in there and make some calls. We're going to England." 


	4. Amsterdam

A Question of Principle  
  
Amsterdam  
  
The Stedelijk Museum in Amsterdam, The Netherlands (GMT +3)   
The cool night air seemed to wrap everything in a blanket of mist amongst the   
dim lights of the city. Everything appeared peaceful and deceptively quiet.   
  
Carmen let out a bored yawn as she glanced at the chronometer on the control   
panel before her. Ten more minutes until the shift change.   
  
The recent theft had been uneventful, and within this a revelation. It was   
almost as if some personal terror remained hidden, submersed beneath a thin veil   
of secrecy. Had this avenue of risk become mundane, too predictable and   
therefore obsolete? Something about it didn't seem right, as if some irritated   
fear premeditated another expected outcome.   
  
Today, the chase no longer held the mystic quality it once had. Her thoughts   
lingered on the irrelevent issues that temporarily took hold in her mind. Maybe   
she had taken this theme too far, it seemed that the underlying message   
originally intended was missed completely, brushed aside and forsaken in the   
intrest of an overrated thrill. Yet the usual suprises seemed secondary. The   
usual suprises? She had to think a moment on that one...   
  
Carmen took a moment to reflect on the calm serenity of the surroundings,   
breathing deeply and concentrating on the soothing effect of a few minutes of   
uninterrupted peace. Although time was running thin, she made sure to take a few   
minutes to clear her thoughts and prepare for the task at hand. Such tactics   
were necessary, for everything that happened within the next few hours was   
crucial and one wrong move would lead to failure. It was easy to plan and expect   
those factors which were in your control, the rest were left to chance. The   
rules of this game were always different, but the one element that never changed   
was the legitamite circumstances that bound such activities as criminal.   
  
"Remove the defined object outside of a set boundary within a spatial time limit   
and avoid interception..." It hardly sounded illegal...she smiled and suppressed   
a small laugh.   
  
That was better, more suited to the thoughts of the greatest thief of all time.   
  
The digital beep of the timer began to chime. She switched it off with a casual   
gesture and set the radio to a predetermined clear channel and said,   
  
" Give me a report on operative status."   
  
A male voice reported matter of factly,   
  
"The new guard was five minutes late. He hasn't even started his rounds yet.   
Should we wait?"  
  
The element of chaos was at work again, but she had always   
prided herself in the abiltity to adapt,   
  
"Temporary delay in operative status. I want to know the second the first check   
is complete."   
  
"Will do, boss." The radio let off a static filled click before going silent and   
Carmen let out an annoyed sigh. Such unforeseen changes were far from uncommon,   
but she had no real patience to deal with them tonight.   
  
Was that right? Could she really want to rush through this and just get it over   
with? Something was plaguing her, but she couldn't figuire out exactly what   
caused her to react in this manner. Then again, there were times when a   
restlessness settled temporarily inside her soul, and set of a chain reaction of   
irrational thoughts. It would pass soon enough.   
  
After this plan had found conclusion, she would take a well needed break from   
whatever monotony had crept into this once grand avenue of risk. Her own   
irratability was more with herself than the events which currently unfolded.   
  
"Okay, all is clear."   
  
"Excellent. Proceed as planned."   
  
It was then that something else overtook her, and it began to take control of   
her actions. Although premeditated, everything ran as if automated to   
perfection, lacking any amateur clumsiness. Instead, there was a fluid   
methodical intent imprinted upon every movement, a silent feminine elegance that   
transformed the simple acts of criminal mastery into a sublime art in itself.   
Shadows converged long enough to synchronize times, and disperse into the   
darkness. Morning would soon begin to break this one last hour of concealment   
and the pressure began to close in. Carmen waited with a tireless patience as   
she clipped a small handheld device to the automated lock of an emergency exit.   
Such exits were set on a timer, deactivated once the main system switched onto   
normal status during business hours. It was only for a few brief seconds before   
the device stated in a barely audible tone,   
  
"Locking Mechanism Deactivated."   
  
Two metal rods emerged from the sides of the device and Carmen grasped them and   
pulled the door open. A slight hum could be heard for a moment before it died,   
and she was certain that the motion sensors were inoperative. She entered the   
museum and remapped the scene in her mind, remembering the path she had   
personally set in daylight. It was then that she heard a noise nearby, her   
entourage scattered and she found herself holding her breath and pressing her   
back against a cold painted cement block wall.   
  
As she waited for the sound of footsteps to fade into the distant hallway, she   
silently slide from her position toward the gallery where her intended object of   
theft awaited. A new found surge of adrenalin and a steadied sensation not   
unlike nervous anticipation filled her and there was a release of a deeper   
intensity. Her mind focused completely on this one task and it alone. She   
quickly approached the painting, and knew something was amiss. Something was   
different, and experience had taught her that different in these instances was   
not synonymous with anything pleasant. As she drew closer, her footsteps growing   
lighter and more cautious, she could see the Van Gogh, with what appeared to be   
a black envelope affixed to the edge of the frame.   
  
In an instant, the possiblities flooded into her mind. She was startled for a moment . Deep rooted suspicion dictated her actions now as she once again scanned the room for a sign of compromise.   
  
Nothing followed, the silence grew steadily more and more unsettling.   
  
After a few moments, which seemed to stretch for an eternity, she turned fully   
around. Two henchmen who stood to each side of her exchanged puzzled glances at   
first, then began to show true concern. She motioned with a simple hand gesture   
for them to move away, and secure the area.   
  
She plucked the envelope from it's place and stood motionless for a moment,   
still unsure as to why it had been placed there.   
  
This had happened once before. She remembered how she had let her obsession for   
competition overrride her usual insight, only to discover she had been baited   
for a trap. They had already played out the scenario with the Tigress. Really,   
they wouldn't be so foolhardy as to expect her to fall for the same ploy   
twice?...   
  
Carmen opened the envelope and pulled out a violet piece of fine linen paper,   
carefully folded and affixed with a gold seal. She stared curiously at the   
emblem set within the soft wax before carefully opening the edges. Gold   
caligraphy letters glittered faintly and she turned the paper slightly toward   
the dim light to read them.   
  
Forever in marble, frozen in place  
The proud lioness falls from her grace.  
Behold a match of epic measures  
Seek possession of Layard's treasures.  
Or  
Allow me to continue this little dance  
As you accept the blame of my consequence.  
  
The room almost felt ten degrees colder, this was obviously not the work of   
ACME. But who else would know of her plans to steal this particular painting?   
She rubbed the lettering a moment and could see the writing barely smudge. It   
was written in genuine gold...   
  
The clue had been left exclusively for the Agency, yet it was apparent someone   
else had discovered it also.   
  
Discovered it, figuired it out and still somehow managed to beat the detectives   
to the crime scene, write a clue in response and in gold on expensive   
stationary. She quickly surmised that given the amount of time which had passed   
between the time she had escaped from the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New   
York, to the time she had arrived in the Netherlands there was only one   
possibility. She had not been alone on the second floor of the museum. But   
who?...   
  
No, there was no time for that now. She had come here to take care of business,   
not waste time contemplating.   
  
She took great care in removing the artwork from it's position, a series of   
bolts holding it in place. Once that was done, she cautiously removed the the   
backing from the frame and gently placed it into a slim silver case. Once she   
was certain that the soft rubber clamps which held the canvas were firmly in   
place she closed the case with a distinctive metallic click. Then she reached   
inside her side pocket and pulled out a ceramic tiled box upon the a fine   
coating of dust on the floor before the display.   
  
The sudden awareness became undeniable, the excited urgency now dulled by a   
harsh bitter sense of inherent danger.   
  
There was always a chance that she had been followed here too. The air grew   
heavy with an unpleasant caution.   
  
Without a second thought she slapped the alarm mechanism noting the basic wiring   
path which ran along the conduit piping, ill hidden by ceiling tiles and white   
paint.   
  
Nothing.   
  
There was a twisted joke in this, and if Carmen had the time to truly appreciate   
it, she would have found a delicious irony.   
  
Carmen let out a sigh and a small unamused laugh as she hit it again and twice,   
just in case...   
  
Within seconds, the wail of a siren could be heard throughout the room. It   
echoed inside the eardrums with such an intensity that it threatened to drive a   
sane person mad.   
  
A security circuit that malfunctioned. A possible sign that someone else had   
tampered with the system. Usually she waited a few seconds for the astonished   
glare of the local authories. She turned momentarily toward her cohorts who   
understood fully that her task was complete and that they were on thier own.   
They waited only long enough to watch her swift exit before they followed.   
A uniformed man stepped from the shadows and shined a flashlight toward the   
place where the painting had been. He swiftly approached where Carmen had set   
the small tiled box and placed it carefully inside of his jacket as others   
quickly descended upon the scene and he cried out in flawless Dutch as he   
pointed toward the route of her escape,   
  
"It's Carmen Sandiego! She took the Van Gogh! Stop her!"   
Several people scattered as the lone guard stepped away in the midst of the ensuing confusion.   
  
Once he was certain that he was alone, the sound of the alarm growing in the   
distance he retrieved a cell phone from his jacket pocket and hit redial,   
  
"Ya? Jerard? She took the bait."   
  
********************************************************************   
One thought stood apart from all the others.   
  
Where had Zack and Ivy been through all this? It wasn't completely out of the   
question that they had guessed wrong, in fact, it wouldn't be the first time.   
But with the recent development concern had etched itself deeply in her mind.   
She knew something inside compelled her to leave the scene of her last crime as   
quickly as possible. She had felt more than just pressure and the excitement of   
the possibility of being interrupted. For that matter, she had planned on being   
interrupted, that really was the point of leaving clues behind. No, it was more   
like a paranoia of being watched. As though some unseen force had been at work,   
analyzing her every move, eyes burning through her flesh and singeing every   
nerve. Nothing felt right about any of this.   
  
Carmen removed the hat from her head and tossed it carelessly to the floor   
beside her. She ran her hands through her hair and gave a bemused look at the   
reflection in the monitor screen before her. What a mess, wearing a fedora for   
hours on end did horrible things to one's hair. She was thankful for once to be   
alone.   
  
But the question of who would possibly bait her with a clue still puzzled her.   
It was time to find some answers. Carmen pulled up the main screen and began to   
type. The best idea would be to access Crimenet and check the progress of her   
current crime spree. She often checked the progress of the chase, not completely   
out of the need to stay one step ahead but often out of curiosity. There was   
always a feeling of nostalgia everytime she began, although things had changed   
drasticly since she had left. Every new system change, update, nuance she added   
to her mental notebook. Over the years, it had been slow, but recently   
everything had been changing.   
  
Everything had changed.   
  
It was then that she saw the veracity to her suspicions. A summary displayed   
information on the recent theft of the Ninevah Marbles from the Metropolitan   
Museum of Art. The theft of the Monet was mentioned but the focus was more on   
the marble friezes. Both heists were currently believed to be the work of.Carmen   
Sandiego...   
  
Now if that wasn't an intresting twist of fate. It was becoming an alarming   
trend, everytime something came up missing...she smiled in spite of herself.   
No, she wouldn't correct them, just yet.   
  
The stolen Van Gogh was mentioned as the most recent item taken. Authorities   
were baffled as to what the next move would be as no clue was discovered at the   
scene...   
  
So, Zack and Ivy had made it there after all. They had arrived just as she had   
fled from the museum. Yet nothing had been found? No, that wasn't right...   
  
Someone was trying very hard to get her attention. Carmen leaned back and pulled   
the note out once again, examining the details of the envelope and the broken   
wax seal. The ruined impression of a scorpion caught her eye, she had seen it   
before. Yet from where? Her memory refused to clarify such an obsure detail.   
The clue followed a theme. She faintly remembered the discoveries of Henry   
Layard, his excavations of ancient Assyria. The Ninevah Marbles from the Met   
were only one half of the collection he had pillaged from his journeys into the   
cradle of civilization, if she was right, the other half had been donated to the   
British Museum in London. A quick infoscan confirmed her deductive reasoning   
once again, and she smiled at the ease with which she had solved the first   
attempt of her competition.   
  
It was just as well that the clue had not been found. There was a last minute   
change in plans. 


	5. London

London London 

Competition is the struggle for possession of reward which are in limited supply-money, goods, status, power, love-anything. It may be formally defined as the process of seeking to obtain a reward by surpassing all rivals. It is based on the fact that all people can never satisfy all thier desires. Sociology-Third Edition Western Michigan University 

London, England ( GMT ) The British Museum 

Kali hated these first moments. There was always a question in the back of her mind, it was a time when she could still turn back and decide against going any further with the preconcieved notions of illegal activity. If she could just walk away and just forget it ever happened.... 

The crackle across her headset jarred her thoughts back to the reality of the situation, and back to the task she had been sent to do. Funny, how Jerard seemed to press the issue of continuing with this mad scheme of his, but sent her to do the dirty work. It would even be tolerable if only he didn't insist on speaking to her in that deep softened tone. There were times when that voice could be filled with a sickening honey sweet sarcasm, and suddenly turn so ice cold and cruel it sent a chill of terror down her spine. 

"Kali? What's taking so long? I don't pay you to sleep on the job. Especially at a crucial moment like this. Give me an update." 

"You want it done any faster? Get your pompous ego down here and do it yourself! You think rewiring the entire museum security system is such a cakewalk, maybe you should be here watching this." 

"Perhaps you're right. I'll be there in two minutes." 

Kalista growled under her breath and began to regret her invitation. The one thing she didn't need was Jida breathing down her neck over such matters. The circuitry was designed slightly different from others she had encountered, but no alarms had sounded and there weren't any security personnel rushing to the scene, so obviously, she was doing it right. Her employer acted as though the request to break into one of the most secure systems ever rigged in a museum was as a simply as making a cup of coffee. With a quick sparking of foreign wiring, she attached two alligator clamps to the last of the wires, creating a parallel path and took a deep breath. As a last thought, she cut the line to the dialer completely. In the event that anything would go wrong, it would take longer for the authorities to be notified. Now, to see if it worked... 

She turned and jumped with a startled gasp, and whispered with a growl, 

"Stop doing that to me! How long have you been here?" Jida merely crossed his arms with an irritated glare, the violet half cape around his shoulders rustling softly against the blackened silhouette. 

"Are you ready yet? I was under the misunderstanding that we were in a hurry..."Kali pulled out a cigarette and smiled, 

"Oh, and waste a perfect evening like this? And I was just starting to enjoy myself..." He gave her a sharp look, walking past her and toward the side entry. 

"I thought you gave that up...I mean, if you want to die young you could always take up armed robbery..." 

She walked beside him, paused before the doorway, and exhaled across the threshold. Within the particles of smoke one could see the tiny blue glare of laser beams, cutting lengthwise in a complex web of light. She then threw the cigarette to the ground with a smile and replied, 

"Oh? And give up this dead end job? Now, listen carefully. The path I created for you will glow blue, but anything red means stop. You have exactly eight minutes to get in, five to take care of business, and three to run. The last of the lines for the marble piece are ready, all we have to do is finish creating an opening big enough to lift this thing through and we're done. You get to distract Sandiego if she decides to show up." 

"Oh, she will, I'm certain of it." Kali shook her head as she leaned against cold grey brick behind her and let out an exasperated sigh, 

"I still don't understand why you're going through with this. You have plenty of professionals who could have handled this alone..." He turned to face her, his dark orange eyes narrowed and glinting an almost red hue in the sparse moonlight, 

"...I have to do this. How do you expect me to equal the competition if I'm not willing to come face to face with danger myself? " His face showed a profile of complete confidence, but when his coppery eyes met hers, Kali could see a faint glimmer of doubt as well as fear. But the look quickly shifted as he smiled and added, 

"No need to worry, the odds are planned in our favor." She just nodded and apprehensively watched as Jida retreated into the darkness. 

He flipped the half visor down over his left eye, now visualising the color coded pathway created for him. There was a slight nervousness as he passed through the blue threads of light. No alarm. Kali was one of the best... 

He followed the beams to the main room on the second floor, across from the room a diplay designated to a marble tablet once stood. The scene depicted on the marble frieze was the hunt of a lioness, discovered by the famous Henry Layard along with the ruins of a before undiscovered captitol of Assyria. At the time, no one had cared or recognised the importance of this find, indeed, the native people themselves occasionally found such pieces and ground them down to use as a plaster base. But this particular scene was only one of a series of such artifacts, many of which had been preserved by private collectors and later donated to museums around the world. Back then, who would have thought these pieces would fetch the highest prices ever paid for such exquisite antiquities? Once believed to be the very visions of Ezekiel, half human and half animal forms, outdating pivotal finds such as the Elgin Marbles and the very pyramids of Giza... 

But these relics were more than just a costly prize to be plucked from the grasp of legality for Jida von Chera Jerard. No, they were much more, almost symbolic in meaning. A meaning beyond the simple musings of a common criminal. The Assyrians had been known for thier ruthlessness and cunning, conquering many people in the wake of battle. And while they weren't known for attributing anything original in art, they adopted the styles of each of the cultures they conquered, improving on what was taken from others. 

It was then that another display caught his fancy, and he decided abruptly that since he was already there, he was going to utilise this free time constructively. ,p He reached into the black leather pouch and withdrew a small steel cylindrical device. With a simple touch of a blue button positioned along the side and turned his attentions to a metal and glass display case. A thin red laser light permeated the disc-wafer lock without tripping the proximity alarm attached beside it, with a considerable amount of skill exerted merely in keeping a steady hand. Jida had experience with this sort of circumstance before, years ago when he was still young and prying into the secret files his father had kept away from public eyes. Something was even strangely reminescent to all the times he had stole away from the boarding schools, lurking far into the darkness until he once again returned only to understand no one has noticed his abscence. Yet something felt different, enough to sway the usually impassive mood he had come to display whether he was nervous or not. 

It was then that a familiar form stepped from the darkened shadows, almost intrusive and aggressively confident despite it's grace. From the limit of Jida's vision he could barely see, but something inside of him told him he was not alone. 

At first glance, Carmen wasn't sure what to think of this situation. ,p Surely, this new adversary had bargained for more than he could handle. The clue had been more than just obvious, it had also been mocking. She observed a moment in an undisturbed silence, somehow amused by the cold eccentricity and mannerism one would not expect to find at the scene of a crime in progress. Black, purple and gold...not only was he bold, but consistent. She sighed for a moment at the seeming foolhardiness this new competitor showed, but there had been several before him. And all had failed, miserably. It was time to start this little dance, the sooner it began, the sooner it would end. A familiar thought echoed in her mind, an analysis of an obvious theme, and she wondered why he concentrated upon similiar artifacts. Well, that wasn't a first either, she remembered a certain vengeful adversary who was preoccupied with the sea... 

Her voice stated calmly yet in an obviously displeased intonation, 

"The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, and his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold. " 

Jida looked up with a feigned look of astonishment, which faded to a smug grin, 

"Ah, Lord Byron from "The Destruction of Sennecherib". I was thinking of something more along the lines of "She walks in Beauty." Carmen seemed unnerved by his quick response, and assessed the scene within her mind. Two possible exits, one already inactivated. She smiled calmly as she walked in front of the 

easiest route of escape yet retaining a poised aura of sang froid, "Is that your attempt at flattery?" 

Mentally, Jida saw the ploy. How easy, how educated the move had seemed.Had it been anyone far less calculating, it would have appeared almost taunting Carmen thought she could block him from an obvious exit. How easily she had underestimated him. Jida did his best to suppress another grin, placing a hand over his heart, 

"Really, Carmen, I would love to recite the poem in full, but this is a robbery in progress, not a poetry reading. My deepest apologies for the lack of civility, I should hope a thief as yourself sympathetic to the need for urgency in such matters." A small laugh escaped her,as her eyes narrowing slightly, 

"You should not have invited me if you expected sympathy, given the current circumstances. I don't take the audacity one must possess to steal in my good name lightly." 

"That was a misunderstanding on ACMEs part. Surely you can't convict me for the preconceived notions of others! By the way, I read your dossier. I'm quite impressed by your work." An almost cynical sneer replaced her previous demeanor, 

"Then you should know about my previous career and how I dealt with those with no respect for the law." He sighed and leaned forward, taking great care to show he was not affected by her words, controlling the strange excitement he felt standing in the same room with someone he admired, beyond the mere expression of any language he knew. But he had not expected this, she was openly affected by his impervious additude, 

"Touchy, touchy! I have the utmost respect for the law. It weeds out the sort of individual which is incapable of adaptation within the boundaries of the criminal underworld, thus clearing the path for revolutionaries such as myself. Why, without the balancing element of the law, I would be forced to deal with the opposition of inferior adversaries." 

"I see." A mischievously demure smile danced fleetingly across her lips, the glimpse of sapphire blue eyes momentarily revealed among wisps of raven black hair, countering Jida's stare from beneath her wide brimmed red fedora. She stepped back and added 

"Then you understand my intentions in doing this..." A black gloved hand flicked across the opposite archway from Jida, tripping a proximity circuit. Within seconds, the blare of the museum alarm could be heard as well as the distant shouting of the museum security guards. Jida shook his head and let out an unnerved laugh, swinging the glass case open and removing a jeweled choker, 

Well, since we know longer have to deal with the formalities of unknowing trepidation, I will do my best to escape from my crime of convenience." Jida stepped back from the display case, swinging the purple cape back from his left shoulder with a simple movement. 

"Convenience?" Her eyes widened at the obvious lack of concern 

"Yes, you see, I've already stolen the marble frieze of the lioness. This small chit chat was merely a diversion of your attention. I only needed to place you at the scene of the crime." The pounding of footsteps grew closer and Carmen instinctively looked in the direction of the sound. This was not good... 

"Stop, Carmen Sandiego, you're under arrest! Give up, there's no way out this time, you're surrounded!" Carmen turned back only to realize that Jida had disappeared. Her mind searched the room hastily and her eyes looked up. She raised her right wrist up and pressed a release for a small grappling hook and cord, which wrapped around on of the rafters overhead. An opening in the ceiling revealed the escape route. He had planned this from the beginnning, showing signs of being both meticulous and intelligent. A dangerous combination. 

"Sorry boys, I've got more important things planned." She grasped her wrist with her free hand and the cord quickly retracted, pulling her from the midst of certain apprehension. She swiftly found her footing and released the hook as she once again searched for the direction Jida had taken. The outline of a black helicopter glimmered on the toward the right, the sounds of her pursuers compromising a jammed door to the left. A sudden frown became apparent as she remembered that her vehicle was also hidden to the left, and two floors down. Jida stopped and turned to face Carmen, 

"Having a problem, Carmen? What a dilemma! You can either try to catch me, or take advantage of these few precious moments and flee. But if you run, the blame of this crime will be placed on you ... yet if you resume your chase you stand a good chance of being caught. They are almost through that door I rigged, make your decision with haste." 

A snarl returned to her lips and she made her decision. After all, Carmen thought to herself, if she was captured, she could always escape... 

She paused briefly and almost appeared to turn away as she reached inside of her scarlett coat. Then she leapt suddenly forward, hurling a smoke bomb in the direction of the helicopter and obscuring all from view as she retorted, 

"Sorry, this game ends now!..." ,p Jida reeled backwards in suprise, but recovered swiftly as he anticipated a possible strategy, much like a player of a chessgame who has made a bad move. In the next instant he was knocked completely off balance, yet he recovered with the grace of a cat landing on all fours. Carmen paused as they once again came face to face, an almost delirious grin on Jida's lips. He breathed heavily and could see that the master criminal now stood in between him and the route to escape, 

"I find you a rather surprising individual, Carmen Sandiego. But soon you will see I have a few suprises of my own. " He whispered into the headset, "Kali, let's go!" 

Jida then rushed right toward Carmen and she met him halfway, extending a blow meant to stop and incapacitate, but not permenantly harm. However, Jida had expected such a manuever and grasped her wrist firmly, counterbalancing her weight and promptly twisting her backwards, releasing her halfway through and regaining his previous position. He froze and watched as Carmen hit the surface of the rooftop hard, somewhat concerned that he had perhaps used too much force in turning her head over heels. She turned from her back and Jida could see she was unharmed but somewhat dazed as she put a hand to her head and began to regain her footing. Her trademark red and gold fedora had fallen to the white gravel and landed close to his boot. The rotors of the helicopter began to turn as he reached down and retrieved her hat, now certain she wasn't seriously injured and turned to flee, pausing once before dissapearing into the stygian darkness, 

As you say Carmen, until next crime..." 

The Blackhawk turned 180 degrees, shining its spotlight in her direction. She had regained her stance and glared in the brilliant light which flooded around her, her raven hair whipping about wildly in the gusts of air forced rapidly through the rotors as the craft spun another few degrees, cutting its lights completely before melting into the night sky. 

The guards bursted through the jammed door, the echo of the helicopter fading into the distance. Carmen was nowhere to be found. 


	6. Interlude

A Question of Principle  
  
Interlude  
  
As Carmen reached a safe distance from the scene of the crime, her thoughts raced in a desperate attempt to determine the weight of the events which had just taken place.  
  
This mysterious interloper had succeeded in avoiding her and had gone out of his way to taunt her judgements. She rubbed the back of her head a moment, remembering how he had taken her hat as a trademark souvenir right after he had flipped her backwards in his escape. Carmen had not predicted his sudden move, and that was a deadly mistake. Yet he had shown no intent on harming her, just a driven motive to embarrass her. She reached into the pocket of her red coat and felt a piece of paper she did not place there. Carmen retrieved it and stared a moment at the envelope before calculating approximately how it had been placed there. When she had been countered on the rooftop, he had taken the brief moment of physical contact to place the envelope on her. Very smooth. She ripped the edge of the delicate linen paper and stared a moment at the letter addressed to her.  
  
With the mysterious smile of La Joconde  
  
She appeared so indifferent beneath her intentions  
  
Sad and confident within the same circles  
  
By the Enigma of Tarnis waits redemption  
  
Seek the Northern path of Richelieu  
  
If you want to discover the source of this clue.  
  
Carmen looked at the curious piece of violet paper, and recognized it immediately. Only one thing was different from the last one she had discovered in the Stedelijk Museum in Amsterdam. There was a gold emblem embossed at the end of the clue, a golden scorpion curled in a distinctive defensive stance within the center of an elaborate sun, and the blackened curve of a waning moon within it. Whoever this mysterious criminal was, he was going out of his way to get her attention. The apparent lack of motive disturbed her deeply. Carmen could not recall meeting anyone who matched the description of the thief she had met in London, yet there was something very familiar about him. Unlike many of the past encounters she had which involved the violent tendencies of desperate inexperienced criminals, this one showed the makings of a calculating mind. He had blindsided her with an unexpected move as he fled from the rooftop of the museum yet he showed no evidence of possessing a weapon. Her new competitor was bold and fearless, he had enjoyed their first encounter with an unmistakable thrill of sheer antagonism.  
  
He was playing a game with her.  
  
Carmen sighed and a wry smile briefly broke the serious expression of concentration she often wore in solitude. If she was right, then this newcomer was in for an unexpected surprise. Surely, he didn't expect her to accept these gestures of theft and copycat clues as a friendly salutation among thieves.  
  
Then something inside her recognized the first reference in the clue. Had she not made the same reference in the clue that had been intended for Zack and Ivy in Amsterdam? Hmm. The mysterious smile of La Joconde. Yes. The reference to La Joconde had been made in her last clue, which had indicated the painting of the Mona Lisa. Her research had revealed that the supposed subject of the famous work was the wife of Frensceco del Gioconde. His wife had been called La Joconde and had been a leading citizen of Italy at the time. Currently the Mona Lisa was being displayed at the Louvre. She had known that from her earlier clue. The early pattern of his modus operandi suggested a strong sense of theme, hadn't the first theft in the Met involved part of the Ninevah Marbles? The frieze taken from the British Museum was also from ancient Assyria. Perhaps there was more to this than she had first seen.  
  
She felt an odd chill of deja vu in all that had happened. Something in her refused to feel afraid. Yet something deep inside told her otherwise.  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
Paris, France  
  
Something deep inside told Jida that the feeling he had was more than just educated deductive reasoning. He had purposely seen to it that the location of his next theft was the same as the one specified in the stolen clue from Amsterdam. There was no guarantee that Carmen knew he had arranged for the porcelain box to be taken from her last heist. Once again some intuitive force told him he couldn't be wrong. He held the ornate box up for a moment, admiring the obscurity of the elaborate patterns. There was an unexplainable sensation that seemed to exhilarate him about such details. For years he had only guessed at the kind of person which hid behind the brim of a red fedora, now he saw the minute details of a rare individual he was beginning to admire sincerely. There was always more to a great book that the cover it was bound in, no matter how intricate the craftmanship or grand the title. All things remained to be tested in due time.  
  
"You betray yourself in the smallest of things."  
  
Jida mused to himself privately. He had analyzed everything he had seen about her. His mind replayed the last encounter over and over again, reveling in the swift decisiveness which had enabled his escape.There was a great need to savor each moment in private memory before returning to his analytical repose. There was something far different about Carmen Sandiego, from the calm poise of her confrontation to the manner which she had pursued him fearlessly, armed with only her knowledge and determination to defend her. There was something noble about this elusive criminal, and despite what he had read in various articles or watched on the news it was a far grander thing to experience. Carmen had been more than surprised to discover his intentions in London, but he had relied on making the most of appearances. She had not had the same chance to dissect his motives or to determine the caliber of potential he held for such underhanded deeds. Jida had played every move he had, and Carmen had been able to keep up with him. Given the opportunity, she would have easily evened the odds and tried to outmaneuver him.  
  
Tonight she would have that opportunity.  
  
Jida knew he had to be prepared to the fullest extent of his experience to stand a chance. Carmen had tenfold the amount of skill he possessed and she had a greater extent of resources. Yet the odds of this twisted little game compelled him even more.  
  
Nothing ever seemed real to him until he could see it for himself, deliberately take in all the information he could and muse over it in private memory. This was one of the more memorable things he had experienced in his lifetime, whereas most other recollections he pushed aside and longed to forget. If there was any nervousness in him, it didn't show. He had a trained ability to withhold such emotions and replace them outwardly with a face of sheer unconcern.  
  
There was so much he had wanted to learn from the master thief. Jida knew the price of what he was doing, the consequences had played over and over in his mind from the moment he had first seen Carmen in the museum in New York. A strange sense of exhilaration filled him with anticipation. It had been a long time since such an emotion had interfered with his logic. His taste for the darker paths were well defined and deliberate. Once again, something revived within his soul he had once thought forsaken. 


	7. Paris

A Question of Principle  
  
Paris (GMT +3)  
  
Knowledge is power.  
  
~ Francis Bacon  
  
The universal key to any lock is knowledge.  
  
~ Eddie the Wire  
  
From The Secrets of Lockpicking  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Upon reaching the perimeter of the museum, Carmen could instinctively sense that something was amiss. It wasn't the usual activities of those who were "determined" to protect the premises from individuals such as herself, but something darker and more insidious.  
  
Does competition really make a person stronger? Or does it merely immunize against the possibilities of surprise? She had always suspected that one day, this would happen. Someone would come along and test her position in the criminal underworld, thinking themselves better and end up failing miserably due to the lack of insight she had detected when she emerged from legality into the superior ranks of the darker arts.  
  
She didn't doubt her ability to sense such shortcomings. What deeply disturbed her was the lack of such apparent shortcomings in the competition. This could prove to be more dangerous than she had originally thought.  
  
Yet the lack of the thrill of the chase had recently began to threaten her mind with somber conclusions. There was no longer any real danger to her pursuits. No prison could hold her, no agency had held her for very long...  
  
The possibilities that this new threat presented awakened a new channel of fear and within such opportunities a deeper purpose resurfaced.  
  
A faint smile curved the ruby red lips beneath the shadows of the similiar colored fedora.  
  
No one ever said she had to play fair...  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Kali stood by, the concern upon her face evident even in the darkened shadows. Although there were several of Jida's hired accomplices crawling about the premises, she senses something was about to go very wrong.  
  
Despite her doomed soothsaying predictions, Jida remained undaunted. She pulled a cigarette from the weathered pack her in her jacket and chewed it nervously. Only then did Jida's gaze fall upon her with a disapproving glare and she smiled weakly but did nothing.  
  
The gaze suddenly turned menacing and she pulled the cigarette from her lips and blew an imaginary puff of smoke into the chilled air, her breath crystalizing into a cloud of frozen water vapor. This act proved to be too much for Jida, who deliberately stopped all concentrated thought and strolled toward her with an undisturbed ease.  
  
He stood before her with a blank expression, his hand open and waiting. Kali handed him the cigarette and raised one eyebrow apologetically.  
  
The coppery stare narrowed, she could hear a deep inhalation of air and she quickly placed the entire pack from her jacket into his palm. This action seemed to satisfy the strange spector of a human that loomed over her as he returned to his position and began to concentrate upon his former task.  
  
She smiled momentarily as she placed her hands inside of her pockets and whispered,  
  
"You missed your calling. You should be working for the Surgeon General..."  
  
He grinned at the odd complimend replied,  
  
Everything is ready to go?"  
  
"Yep. At least it's as close as I can get it."  
  
"That's not reassuring, Kali..."  
  
"Then stop playing the game. Go home and accept your losses." He stood abruptly and stared back at her, switching on his headset,  
  
"Never. Let's go..."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The intital entry was easy enough, Kali had once again provided him with a foolproof route of success. Her years working for some of the most dangerous criminal minds clearly showed in her experience to out think the complex circuitry of the top rated security systems of the world. The ironic thing that always amused him to no end was the fact that she had aquired her certification in electronics after her first conviction for B&E. Had she spent a longer term imprisoned for her crimes, there was no doubt that the state penitentiary would have funded her education further...  
  
It was such an odd twist of fate which had allied the two of them. In the years he had spent pondering his father's death, he had attended all the trials of the associated accomplices with a hungry eye to every detail. But when he saw her, he knew something was inherently different about her. She lacked the fundamental qualities needed to be a cold, calculating professional in the criminal world, and yet there she was. The apparent sardonic aura when the charges were read to her with a redundant drone. The way she sighed and raised her eyebrows and nodded in agreement to her guilt. What was it she had said?  
  
Oh yes, that was priceless. How could he ever forget?  
  
" Thank you. Yes, I did it, I fully admit to my part in all of this. Let me apologize first to people in attendance here today. The laws of this state require that I must be judged by a jury of my peers. You fine people of the jury have nothing in common with me...well, isn't that a fine joke? Now you have the chance to see what happens to those tax dollars you have been paying all those years. I did it, and I had a lot of fun in the process. Stop wasting my time and let's get this over with. Today is one more day away from my release onto probation..."  
  
Something had endeared her to his cause from that moment on. He knew he had to know her better.  
  
But now was not the time for memories...  
  
He swiftly found his place in the dimmed lights of the Louvre and allowed the limits of his keen perception to converge into a well practiced calm.  
  
How the moments seemed to tick away like an eternity...across the headset he could hear the occasional crackle of interference and he noted every interrruption with an almost paranoid line of thought.  
  
It was then that a sudden soft click caught his attention in the distance of the room and his heart soared with a giddy anticipation. He knew it was her...  
  
Yet she did not approach him at first, her intrinsic nature obeyed the laws of a specified respective distance. Even in the dim, imperceivable light, her presence was powerful.  
  
Jida fidgeted with his gloves in an unconscious muffled sound, and Carmen could sense a degree of discomfort.  
  
However, this was not a first for Jida. He quickly regained his posture and chuckled,  
  
"Infinite players play with boundaries and finite players play within them. Isn't that right, Carmen?"  
  
Whereas she hastily retorted,  
  
"Don't bother me with trivial thoughts. I want to know why you removed my clue for ACME from the museum in Amsterdam."  
  
Jida stopped cold in his witty glee, almost stunned and sighed,  
  
"Well, you don't waste time, do you? I thought we came here in pursuit of the same idealism. Otherwise I see no reason why you made this such an important matter. You could just as easily have sent one of your anonymous henchmen."  
  
"You are incorrect in your assessment. You have made this a matter of my business when you took the clue I had left for ACME."  
  
Jida shrugged, "I can put it back if you like..."  
  
"You have a lot of nerve to stand here and claim you are more than the lowly criminal who has overstepped his boundaries. And do not glorify your audacity with untruths. We are nothing alike."  
  
Jida calmly stated,  
  
"I didn't say that. But you're statement betrays what I already suspected. I'm sorry Carmen, I merely assumed that you broke into the museum. Please accept my apology for my misconceptions of how an international thief as yourself got into the Louvre at two am."  
  
Carmen stared directly at Jida with a look of utter contempt. Jida sidestepped the exhibit of the Sphinx and smiled apologetically,  
  
"I truly do not mean to offend. I just can't resist an open invitation for a comeback. I believe we could benefit each other greatly. You see, I have amassed a power base not far from your own, and I think it's time I took control of what destiny has offered me. Until now, I have waited silent and patient to see what I wanted from what the world had to offer. After years of contemplation, I know that I require the same sort of calculating methodical practice to forget what life has left out. My bloodline is that of the worst criminal caste to ever grace the face of Earth. Yet I wish for a different category of criminality. I desire respect and love, to be known for what I am not for what I do. You have what I only dream of. The world over, you are known as the "criminal with a conscience" I wish to learn from the best. Show me what experience has taught you, and I will gladly benefit you through whatever means you require."  
  
Carmen paused, taken aback by the statement of the mysterious man who openly offered his services in return for any price. She shook her head and stated,  
  
"I don't understand your motives. Perhaps you could elaborate more. I have no difficulty in telling you that I am not interested in your proposition."  
  
He leaned toward her, his eyes softening slightly as he stared her in the eye. That last statement wasn't entirely true, he could see something in her poise that told him otherwise, but was at a loss to determine exactly what it was hinting.He had spent years reading the body language of people, but she was more difficult to read than he had originally thought.  
  
"Are you truly that afraid of having an equal?"  
  
Carmen quickly retorted,  
  
"What makes you believe you're capable of becoming my equal?"  
  
"Now if that isn't the most arrogant thing I've ever heard. I know of your past disappointments, Carmen. You had truly expected a detective who followed the same law as yourself to freely offer to join you and obey your every whim? tsk, tsk, Lee Jordan had had other plans. Tell me, what is it like to have your trust shattered and your life ruined by a miscalculation of a person's character? I dare not speculate over all the details involved"  
  
Carmen raised a hand and turned with an apparent disinterest,  
  
"It seems you have speculated too much..."  
  
" I suppose thats a matter of private business. I'm truly sorry for my forwardness. Jordan used you to accomplish his own twisted means."  
  
Carmen paused and stood in the shadow of the Sphinx, the faint light of the auxillary lighting system barely betraying her presence. "Why should I not trust my intuition that you will attempt the same?"  
  
" A very good question. I do have a hidden agenda of sorts. But it hardly involves taking over V.I.L.E or world domination and I would like to think I'm above kidnapping. I do not ask for your trust, you hardly know me."  
  
"Yet you are certain of what you ask, the implications which are involved in working for me. While I still stand by my previous statement, my curiosity is piqued. I currently lack a source of amusement in my ventures..."  
  
Jida paused and decided to leave the last statement she had made alone.  
  
"Oh yes, I am certain. Surely you suspect that an individual as myself has mused over the various possibilities in a request such as this. For now, I challenge you to test my ability. I promise you little if any disappointment."  
  
A faint smile curled her stern mouth momentarily before she calmly stated  
  
"Well, then, let's proceed..."  
  
At that moment the roar of the museum alarm rang through the air and the sound of sirens grew closer in the distance. Jida seemed temporarily startled and Carmen made a simple gesture with her hand, holding up four fingers and then five...before nonchalantly starting to walk away.  
  
"What the..." He closed his eyes for what seemed an infinite space in time and the message hit him with a sudden urgency.  
  
Forty-five seconds to escape!  
  
Carmen shot him one last glance as she faded into the darkness, an apparent smile gracing her lips.  
  
Jida froze in place, very much like a deer caught in the headlights of an approaching 747. 


	8. In Pursuit

In Pursuit p  
  
He started to run and switched on his headset, his fingers fumbling nervously at the knobs...  
  
"Kali? Over?!Kali! Answer me!"  
  
A stream of static met him in reply, as his mind raced frantically as if unable to accept there was no voice at the other end. Someone was purposefully blocking the frequency! Of course! Carmen had monitored his every move upon entering the museum, she had probably seen to it that his planned route of retreat was blocked as well. A slow, burning agitation filled his senses as her intent to have him caught from the start became all too clear. It was obvious that she didn't trust him, perhaps with good reason. He stumbled down the steps of the second floor only to be greeted by the sudden blinding glare from the flashlight of one of the approaching security team. He paused suddenly and raised his arm against the light as he heard one of them exclaim in French,  
  
"There is one of them! Hurry before he escapes!"  
  
Jida quickly turned the opposite direction and his thoughts raced to analyse the situation. Where had Carmen gone? His mind strained to recall her retreat. He pulled a smoke bomb from beneath his jacket and lit the end, tossing it into the darkness. He could hear the clamor of confusion in the smoke as he took those few precious seconds to think. Suddenly, it dawned upon him, and he ran straight in the direction the master thief had taken. He continued down the dark corridor and stopped abruptly, bumping into a marble tiled wall.  
  
"Damn..." he thought privately, his eyes watering from the smoke which filled the hallway, "...she did that on purpose..."His coppery eyes gazed up and he saw that she had escaped through a small retangular vent. Jida spied a set of conduit piping along side the opening and aimed the device on his arm upward. He had fashioned the device after the same one Carmen used for her various methods...only tonight he had wished he had planned things a bit further. Oh well, impromptu would have to do...  
  
As he drew closer to the opening, he realized that it was smaller than he had originally estimated. He stopped suddenly, suspended in mid-air as the footsteps of the security guards grew closer. He let out a deep breath and stopped the raging emotions in his mind.  
  
It wasn't like Carmen to use this method to get away...usually she employed a more stylish means of escape.  
  
She had done this on purpose because she had anticipated his actons? Yes, this really was a test...wasn't it? He looked around and his gaze fell upon a larger vent, unopened but accessible to anyone hanging from the ceiling.  
  
Oh sure, he thought to himself, how often has that scenario come up? A few dusty cobwebs danced in the slight chill of the vent, taunting him with the choice between escape and defeat.  
  
And perhaps, six feet farther than where Jida was hanging from...  
  
He came closer to the conduit and let out a deep sigh as he grabbed a hold of the pipes and crossed the ankles of the black boots he was wearing over the opposite end to support his weight. The conduit complained in return with a metallic twang, too loud to go unnoticed. Despite the fact the air was cold, a sudden sweat broke across his brow.  
  
"There he is, up there!" The lights danced around him as he edged closer to the vent and focused on the route of his only getaway.  
  
"Send a team to the roof, he's going to try to crawl out! Send the rest of the team to the edge of the Western perimeter!..." Jida held onto the piping with one hand and hit his palm against the bar holding the metal grating closed, when it came loose, it hit the side of his head as it fell to the floor below, scattering the few guards below. The blow knocked him off balance and he hung preariously by only his feet, slightly disoriented and absolutely stunned. The urgency of his situation crept back into his mind as he made a supreme effort and reached back up and grabbed the pipe and began to crawl out of the vent.  
  
His grasp caught the surface of the rooftop and he sneezed violently at the dust he had disturbed which had settled since the installation of the vent and piping in the museum. Once he had gained his footing on solid ground, his exhausted gaze caught sight of the police coming toward him from the stairwell.  
  
"Wonderful..."he gasped breathlessly before trying to catch his staggered breath. The instinct of being pursued told him to run. But to where? He had to get back on ground level. He stopped at the edge of building and eyed the concrete below.  
  
This wasn't going to work.  
  
One of the guards came close and Jida jumped upon the edge of the roof and pointed toward the ground and stated in his best Parisan dialect,  
  
"Step back !I will jump! Don't come any closer!"  
  
He held his hands up to show that he was unarmed and a bead of sweat ran down from his forehead, his black hair clinging to the wet flesh around his face. For a moment, everyone could hear the sound of his panting as all eyes fell on him and speculation over whether he would jump to the concrete below quickly became a concern. They could not readily force an unarmed suicidal man into custody. It was a known fact that some criminals would do anything to avoid being captured alive. Several agents radioed for more back up while another came closer, no weapon in hand with a serious calm on his face as he gently pleaded,  
  
"It doesn't have to end like this. You can get a good lawyer, or we can talk this out peacefully. We can work something out, if you are willing to tell us who was involved in this. "  
  
Jida shook his head negatively and calmly said,  
  
"You will never catch me. That much I promise you."  
  
He edged closer to the corner of the building and without warning, stepped over the edge. A sudden fear struck the captive crowd until one of them dared to peer over the corner and saw the top of a tree that loomed merely ten feet below.  
  
The violet and black villian was nowhere to be seen.  
  
"He's on the ground! Search the area!"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Kalista watched as she saw Jida run toward the last means of thier escape. He jumped into the modified vehicle and caught his breath, motioning in a panic for her to leave immediately. She took the moment to comment,  
  
"You are one lucky son of a b..."  
  
"Not now! Drive!"  
  
That was all the motivation Kali needed to squeal the widened tires into a cloud of black smoke and add distance between them and the crime scene. In an instant, a computerised panel of instruments appeared and she switched on a radio interference device with a heightened comprehension of the outbursts of sudden radio traffic in the area. "Do you mind telling me what happened back there?" "No." Kali listened intently for a moment and then looked with a knowing look to Jida, who seemed eerily calm for just escaping capture. The authorities were not following them, it seemed Carmen Sandiego was the main source of interest...  
  
Once Jida had interpreted the sudden exclamations he sighed and then let out an amused laugh. He had done it. She had set him up, and he had escaped, only for his reluctant teacher to be caught in the same tangled web of deception she had woven for him! Oh, what irony! He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow and leaned back with a sudden hit of the same adrenalin rush he knew they both shared...  
  
Kali had also taken the extra precaution of cloaking whatever movements thier vehicle made through radar and laser detection. Her heart still pounded with paranoia in her ears, in her opinion, they had not truly escaped until she fell asleep safely that night in her own bed, the sirens far behind her. He sensed she was nervous, as he hands shook slightly as she switched the controls before her. He placed a steady hand on her shoulder and she smiled weakly.  
  
How had he managed without her?  
  
Although Kali's French was weak at best, she seemed to readily comprehend what the bursts of radio transmissions hailed.  
  
"They're really after her, aren't they? They don't give a damn whether or not we escape."  
  
"That's right, my clever accomplice. Welcome to the life of crime..."  
  
Kali seemed to huff in disgust and snapped,  
  
"I'm well aware of where I am, thank you. Yet it doesn't seem right, we lured her here, after all. Doesn't that take the risk out of what we're doing?" She never allowed her eyes to stray from her current course of escape, however, her mind seemed to preoccupy itself with their adversary. Jida appreciated this conscious state of guilt that Kali readily betrayed, it showed that beneath everything she still expected the good in everyone and had the ability to easily forgive. A priceless gem in the heart of the true manipulator...  
  
Despite her lack of fluent French, Kali instinctively picked up on a three lettered acronym in the array of foriegn vernacular. Jida picked up on it as well and showed a sudden concern at his partner's tense response. "E-M-P...what the..."  
  
Electromagnetic pulse. It seems that someone was lucky enough to shoot a tracer device to her vehicle. They are going to use it to try and stop Carmen! But that's impossible! Don't they know the dangers of stopping an engine going at speeds over ninety-five?..."  
  
Jida eyes seemed to pierce the whirl of scenery racing before his eyes before he stated in a sullen tension,  
  
"Turn around..." At first, the words didn't sink in completely, and Kali failed to react immediately.  
  
"I said to turn back! NOW!" She eased on the brake and brought the vehicle to a sudden stop. Then in an instant the impossibilities tempted her mind as to what he had said, the weight of her translated actions set into an initiated directive.As the altered automobile reversed direction, she sighed.  
  
"I hope you know what you're doing for once." Within the span of thirty seconds the consequence of her decision became the right one. An abrupt shrill signal of counterblast hit the control panels of the modified black 550 Maranello and Kali pulled the car into a remote alleyway and turned the engine off.  
  
"What are you DOING? Have you lost your MIND?"  
  
She shook her head and glared back in reply,  
  
"Just trust me on this one..." She sat still for a moment, and spoke aloud, more to herself than to him, but he listened closely to her rambling.  
  
"Must wait just a few seconds, just a few seconds, not too long from now, just another more..."  
  
At that moment, everything went black, and as Kali restarted the engine, Jida was slightly shaken at her strange intuition. He decided not to ask, but once again rejoiced in his choice of business associates. Time seemed to move slower than it really was, and it was only when the intrument panel came back that he introspectively understood that it had been mere minutes since his escape from the museum.  
  
Time seemed to stand still for him, and the power that one moment held for him was undeniably pleasurable.  
  
The shocked sounds of the onlooking authorites sounded less appealing. From the fragmented flashes of information coming across the transmitter there had been an accident, a medical unit had been alerted and the sounds of sirens pierced the air with admonitions. Tires screeched to a halt and Kali stepped from the driver's side as quickly as she had stopped, and he blindly copied her reactions as they both gazed upon the scene.  
  
All that seemed to capture their attention was the twisted metal frame of what had to be Carmen's vehicle. A few of the units that had given chase had stopped and seemed too shocked at this apparent outcome of thier actions to react. They had arrived mere seconds before the vehicle had spun out of control, halting it's takeoff launch into flight and careening the hapless mechanism into a nearby building. Kali knew such a time was not one for standing still.  
  
She reached into her jacket and pulled out a smoke grenade and pulled out the pin with her teeth before hurling it at the rear tire of the wreck. The jolted reactions of those who had surrounded the scene was to flee in fear, not knowing that the smoke would be accompanied by nothing worse. There were screams and curses in French that made no difference as she threw another grenade into the confusion of sirens and Jida saw his cue to react.  
  
This was a similiar scenario they had played out in Berlin in the midst of the German polizei, only the objective had changed. It gave him just enough of an opportunity to throw the situation into his control and he wasted no time as he rushed toward the smoking wreckage. The vehicle door would not budge at first, and required a violent motion to pry open. Inside, his eyes were greeted by an unwelcome site, the figuire of a red clad woman didn't move, didn't respond to his presence. He leaned over her momentarily and felt for a pulse and assessed the situation with a terrified shakiness.  
  
No, she was still alive. The five point harness around her body had more than probably saved her life. But a nasty gash ran into her hairline and had begun to bleed profusely. With a quickness preluding to panic hepulled a knife from his side and cut the harness away and sighed in relief as a barely audible unconscious moan escaped from her lips. Without a second thought, he lifted her body from the remains of the damaged vehicle and carefully hoisted her over his left shoulder. As he turned to retreat from the scene he pulled another smoke grenade from his side and hurled it towards the oncoming authorities.  
  
Kali could see little in the blinding white and grey smoke, but she recognised Jida's voice as he cried out in the midst of the confusion. "I've got her, let's go!" 


	9. Berlin

Berlin At first, everything was dark and the surroundings swam in blurred uncomfortable spirals. A sharp pain ached from her head, and a soft female voice whispered reassuringly,  
  
"Relax, you are safe."  
  
A ragged, weak voice emerged from her throat to barely form the words,  
  
"Who are you?..."  
  
The slight pinch of a needle sliding into her arm faded quickly and the pain began to ebb along with the hazed circling lights of consciousness with the uncertain reply,  
  
"Not an enemy...you are safe..."  
  
**************************************************************************** **************** She opened her eyes carefully, taking in the slow dull ache in her head and muscles. The lighting was much softer and soothing than she remembered. Her vision gradually cleared to focus on the warm jacquard silk finely woven in rich hues of sage and cream she rested upon.  
  
It was obvious she was not in danger. But where was she?  
  
She sat up with a soft moan, and a sudden movement to her right caught her immediate attention. Across the room, lazily reclining backwards was a woman clad in clashing silver and black. She seemed out of place in this room of luxury as she stretched almost catlike, dark ponytails pulled tight by silver metal adornments falling gracefully down as she looked over and smiled politely at her.  
  
"Good afternoon, Ms. Sandiego. That's a nasty cut you got there. Been in and out for the past few days."  
  
"Where am I?" A faint scent of bergomat and sandelwood permeated the air, and the even weaker smell of lighted beeswax candles added to it. She sensed warmth and the crackling of a fire burning in the rose and ivory carrara marble fireplace before her.  
  
"Safe."  
  
"That's not what I meant..."  
  
"Just as long as we understand each other."  
  
"I wouldn't go that far..."  
  
"Me either. I always hear people say that in the movies, and I just always wanted to say it. I really have no clue how I got talked into babysitting the previously unconscious Carmen Sandiego. I thought for certain he was going to pick scissors instead of paper..."  
  
"...Ah, so you must be Kalista de Silva. Jerard's supposedly executive administrative assistant."  
  
"You know my name? Whoa...you're better than I thought! Wait...supposedly?"  
  
"I saw your old dossier from Interpol. It seemed somewhat suspicious to me that someone as business oriented as Von Jerard would personally hire a relatively inexperienced, minimally educated individual as yourself. Then I looked a little deeper. After a few hours of research, the reason was obvious. Your only serious credentials are as an ex-jewel thief. " You served time at Central California Women's Facility in Chowchilla from 91 to 98 when the son one of Jerard's political associates conveniently agreed to be your sponsor at your first parole hearing. I was a little impressed by that. It's not very often someone as prestigious as Delgado would do such a act of charity, but it was later proven he was involved in a drug smuggling operation running opium from overseas into the state. I have a strong inclination to say it was Jerard who posted bail, and of course, Delgado hasn't been seen since. He probably offered to pay for you to go to college a few years to aquire enough skill to at least function at some entry level clerical position. By then, the records were changed, they switched the "C" in your name with a "K", erased your last name with a new one and made you respectable enough to promote. The rest from there seems to be a matter of simple deductive reasoning."  
  
"I remembering reading somewhere you were an ex-detective! Maybe we just needed a career change, oh wait, maybe you really didn't change that much after all?" She lifted one eyebrow with a smirk.  
  
"You don't seem that changed to me either. "  
  
Kali sat upright from her reclined position with an indignant sneer.  
  
"Well, I did! Do you think I could type 110 words a minute or knew what a spread sheet was before then? Do you think anyone makes coffee the way I do? And these nails? I don't spend hours of precious company time polishing them for nothing! Now I have a laptop, a cell phone, correction fluid in every color and business cards! I can be just as much of a stuck up office girl who ignores the phone lines as well as the next one too!..."  
  
Carmen smiled and seemed faintly amused. The intricate texured designs of Italian matelasses felt sleek and delicate beneath her fingertips. Her eyes slowly followed the luxurious duvet across to the edge of the Venetian style bed, it's warm wood reflecting peacefully along the posts, and down the footboard decorated in elaborate acanthus carvings and heavy crown molding, which winded up each post and ended in a an Italian stylized finial.  
  
"...And for your information, I am an excellent assistant...legitimate business is phenomenal, and I only consider this recent activity as a part- time hobby. Oh, and anyone who is anyone calls me Kali. People only call me Kalista when they are angry or condesending. Not that we are trying to be condescending, right?"  
  
"Right. Kali it is. For your information, very few people refer to me by my last name unless they are reading me my rights. So, Kali, it's a very interesting hobby you have. To think, some people collect stamps..."  
  
Carmen sat up on the edge of the bed and used one hand to steady herself while feeling her forehead with the other. The pain was minimal now and more annoying than debilitating.  
  
Kali shook her head "no" and rose to her feet quickly to interfere,  
  
"Hey, wait, you have stitches...you lost some blood due to the accident. Maybe you should rest a little longer...do you want some aspirin? I don't have any idea where to even buy aspirin from anymore, I just pick up the phone over there and then someone magically appears with some and a glass of juice on a tray. No hassle, really, I can just push the buttons..."" "No, that's not necessary. Outside of a dull headache, I feel fine. Thank you, however, for your concern."  
  
Kali sat back down across from the bed and nodded indecisively,  
  
"Okay, if you say so. Some people collect stamps. That's funny."  
  
" I suppose in the same way some people collect strange ancient artifacts from museums at all hours of the night."  
  
"Right. Plus you can store them in easy to carry scrapbooks and they don't require hoists. I'm going to have to suggest that to Jida. Not that he would listen, he really doesn't care as long as he gets what he wants. Not even if it's illegal or endangers lives. I feel the need to apologize for your current condition. We had no idea they were going to be stupid enough to try something like that. Still, that's not an excuse."  
  
"You would be surprised what people will do to try and stop you. Always plan for the unexpected, not the desired. It sounds as if you have second thoughts about your new hobby..."  
  
"It's okay, I guess. Although, I'm really starting to give serious thought to those stamps..."  
  
"Then why are you doing this?"  
  
"Like I have an option? It's either this or prison, and after seven years, I'm just not looking forward to going back. Besides, have you tasted the food in there? Blech! That, and I've gotten used to taking showers by myself again." Kali shuddered.  
  
"You mean to tell me, that your employer would not post bail after you traded your second chance to him?"  
  
"Are you kidding me? If I don't do things to the letter, my employer offers to call the cops on me himself."  
  
"And you still work here?"  
  
Kali looked downward toward the intricate veins of the carrara marble beneath her sage colored chaise and shrugged. "Nothing is that simple Carmen. I do owe him a lot. I could never live like this on my own. Hell, I doubt I'd be making it half this good. He pulled a lot of strings to get me here."  
  
"Yes, I see that. Exactly what strings is using to tie you here and keep you a personal prisoner in his company?"  
  
"That's a very long story..."  
  
"...so, he is blackmailing you."  
  
"I didn't say that."  
  
"You didn't have to. Your reaction confirms it."  
  
"We are all thieves either way. I'm not much different from Jerard, deep inside. Just as he is not much different from you."  
  
A sudden, icy cold fire seemed to flare within the cold blue stare Kali's eyes met when she dared to look up. Carmen didn't break it, but stood to her feet quickly and stepped torward her. There was no indication of violence in her reaction, but Kali instinctively drew back realizing she had made a mistake.  
  
"That's where you are dead wrong. There is a strong difference between what we do. We may both be criminals with a conscientious manner of thievery, but our motives are not the same. Although the authorities that pursue us fail to see the distinction, what separates me from Jerard is merely a question of principle. He has blackmailed you into working for him, and forces you to prove your faith to his cause with your guilt. Tell me, is there anyone working for Mr. Jerard who does so purely out of true loyalty? Never compare me in any regard to him, ever again."  
  
There was a moment of uncomfortable chilling silence, when Kali broke it with a slightly shaky voice and produced an envelope from inside her jacket. She then tossed it carelessly to the floor at Carmen's feet and softly stated,  
  
"Listen, I'm sorry...I didn't mean it like that. I know you're not like that. Jida wanted me to give this to you, but I feel inclined to tell you to ignore it. You are right, you know. I don't think I would have gone back into crime had it not been for him. I thought I was really going to change and turn my life around. I'm not sure how I would have done it, as I've never really had much experience with people without criminal intentions...but I could have at least tried. I take false comfort in trying to reason why I stay. So much for rehabilitative therapy."  
  
"Don't take it too hard, most of the people I know who have gone through it rarely benefit from it anyways. Tell me this, when all this comes crashing down, will you feel the same? Do you think that Jida will risk what he has and rescue you from the authorities? He did all of this to prove to me he is in the same echelon of intent, not out of the goodness of his heart. Would he have rescued me if I did not represent a means to an end? I don't have to tell you, the look on your face tells me you already know the answer. It will be the same when the dice fall for you".  
  
"He's not that bad, really. I guess I make him seem worse than he really is."  
  
"I'm reluctant to believe you, when your own reactions seem forced. You tell me these things as if you are still trying to convince yourself of them."  
  
"Do I? I guess I'm not as loyal to Jida after all. Here I am, confessing this to you and I hardly know you."  
  
"I'm not forcing you to tell me anything. I'd never force you to do anything you did not agree to."  
  
"Exactly. And I don't feel any regret for telling you either. I can't just get out, it's not that easy. I mean, I want to get away from this, but it's too complicated now. I know...I do know what is going to happen. But I am tied up in this wierd game of tug'o'war, I keep getting pulled back and forth by things I no longer control. Even if I were to get out, then what would I do? To be honest, I simply have nowhere to go."  
  
A mysteriously devious smile danced across Carmen's lips before she reached down and took the violet envelope from where it had fallen and turned to leave, pausing momentarily.  
  
"I will never form an alliance with Jerard. You are not to blame for that, I made my decision the moment I met him. I tell you this because you have revealed many things to me this day, and you did so in order to help me. You realize that Jerard would try and twist and manipulate me in the same manner he has done you. I have heard your advice, and now it is time that you heard some from me. Tug'o'war is a game that requires two people to hold opposite ends of a rope. You can either pull back, or allow yourself to be dragged into the mud. Just remember, you only subject yourself to the grasp of the other person by not letting go. Drop the rope, Kali. Do so before Jerard decides to, and you fall to the ground anyways."  
  
Kali merely nodded, closing her eyes before she sighed as she rose to her feet and walked towards the fireplace.  
  
"There's a set of keys to a vehicle downstairs. I'd only take it as far as the next town before ditching it, Jida probably has some sort of tracking device on it..."  
  
But when she looked up again, Carmen was gone. 


	10. Ankara

A Question of Principle  
  
Ankara  
  
Ankara Turkey  
  
GMT +3  
  
Kali stared intently at the multiple colored threads of the rug at her feet and let out a heavy sigh. She hated meetings like this especially when the other party was late. With and exasperated glance her eyes fell toward Jida as she pulled the shoulder length hair from her face and tied it back. How could he remain so calm, so composed? Few things effected this man. And yet there were times when he seemed genuinely concerned with her. He tolerated, no, demanded her presence. Although he had never suggested anything outside of an occasional need for business matters and casual conversation he had made it clear that she was socially unavailable. When the events in her life had been tough, Jida had coldly hired extra help to take on the workload with little or no acknowledgement to what his actions clearly told. However, when she allowed herself to become sarcastic and tried to free up time for herself, he would drop cutting comments and make her feel guilty.  
  
How was that? Guilty for what? There had been times when she had seen the cold mask of indifference fade, times when he allowed himself to become almost human. Once, he had invited her as his personal companion to an official gala hosted for Jerard Industries Inc., a bold act considering her position in the company. While rumors abounded he had always remained the rogue gentleman. But that night had been different from any other she had experienced. After the crowd had dispersed and the lights started to dim, he placed a key to his personal penthouse suite in her hand without a single word and left. A strange mixture of anxiety and emotion had hit her at once but in the end she followed.  
  
Kalista had only been working at her new position for six months and had been completely unsure as to the implications. Jerard had acted warmly to her acceptance, he offered her a drink with that all too familiar smile. Kali gladly accepted and as both of them emptied one glass after another she realized his invitation had not been suggestive. He always teased but never acted. Jida asked about her past, her dreams. What she wanted from life. Somewhere in the course of the night he confided things from his past as well. Vague, odd images of a boy shunned by his father. A boy who's complicated birth had killed his mother. Magnus had sent him away, to be raised by strangers and later b y boarding schools. He had resented his only child for the untimely death of the only woman he had ever loved.  
  
Jida never recalled any closeness, rather a distant shadow of a man who remained a mystery. By comparison, Magnus and Jida were nothing alike. Magnus had been a cold and calculating businessman of underground markets. He sold contraband to the highest bidder with little if any personal ethical consequence and organized several arms smuggling operations. Despite the fact that he had several armed bodyguards a bullet had fatefully found its mark after a double-cross gone bad. Such matters were a matter of personal vendetta, yet Jida sought no revenge, no course by which to redeem his family debt. He acted as though the marksman had done him a great favor, and left the topic of revenge alone. Only when someone had wronged him personally did he seek such cruel measures.  
  
Although the intense hatred of his father, Jida had gladly claimed his inheritance. Selling various properties and reinvesting his heirloom fortune into legitimate enterprises he had proven himself a natural entrepreneur. Within ten years Jida had been able to convert a majority of his holdings into legitimate business. So why was he trying so hard to ruin it now? Something in him striven toward the worse. Kali knew that Jida was emotionally his own worst enemy. Only time would tell the tale of his success.  
  
Legitimately, the world offered him anything his heart could have materially desired but such simple pleasure ranged short of his tastes. The world and its governments both freely offered him substantial enterprise, openly and secretly but something within him yearned for much more...  
  
Jida had kept his inherited connections alive and meeting with smugglers and thieves from the Middle East hardly pleased his associate. The current relation that banned most from travel into hostile territory did not effect her employer the least bit. It almost seemed that he went out of his way to prove the world was wrong in their assessment of their short sighted expectations.  
  
Even in the midst of all that had happened, she believed in him. Jida was far too intelligent and had enough money to find his way out of any predicament. He was untouchable. Maybe that's what really bothered her about the entire scenario he was playing with Carmen Sandiego. She was truly another level, far beyond that which she had even cared to experience. Kali knew that Jerard had taken on more than he could handle. If he stood a chance of outwitting the master thief she didn't want to think about it. The options of success bothered her, because she felt Jida really was a conscientious villain. He was so human beneath the indifference and she had convinced herself he had become too complex for any normal person to truly understand. Jida wasn't really a bad guy, he just did bad things. There was a difference, wasn't there? The question raised more serious implications.  
  
He sat across the room, silent and patient. He thought to himself. So completely confused by her surroundings and trying hard not to show it. Yet if anything he had learned in the course of dealing with Iraqis was that they really didn't have a set sense of time. You could usually set for something specific, but it was more for estimation rather than an accurate gauge.  
  
It was somewhat amusing in his mind. Here he was meeting with lowly thieves who destroyed and pillaged the very heritage of their own people, yet they gladly accepted a pittance in return. Perhaps the circumstances and the failing economy had forced them into such a narrow decision to profit minutely from theft, but beneath all the reasons he didn't care. If he didn't buy the pieces of ravished limestone, then there would be little chance that they would be properly reconstructed. Instead, there was a higher chance that the pieces would circulate the black market, bought by willing prospectors who would never be able to realize the full damage done to the ancient artifacts. By dealing in large numbers did he have a chance to preserve the pieces of Nineveh which had withstood the turmoil of time. Only now, did they stand a chance of being wiped from existence, lost due to the negligence of the economically repressed. The information he was about to pay for was overly priced, but it would lead him to one of the greatest thefts in history.  
  
If he could get the other party he needed to be a willing participant.  
  
His mind clouded momentarily with giddy thoughts, like a child lost amid a candystore with an endless pocket of change and no parent to pull them away. If she accepted his next invitation, he was certain of her interest in his cause. She would be foolish not to accept, it would prove one of the greatest challenges of her career as well.  
  
Where they not of the same mind? Constantly seeking and craving the intellectual challenge behind the legality of thier crimes? The complex dance with those that chased them, those that sought to kill the deep seated need for the precious rush of adrenalin that only the amorphous game of cat and mouse served in the world of ultimate larceny? Searching for the ultimate limit, the next best thrill? With such a combination of intelligence and cunning they would be unstoppable!  
  
Then another prospect settled within his mind. What if she refused? No, that was unthinkable. Surely, she could never refuse him on these terms. Not after he had rescued her from the Paris authorities and seen to her well being. Wasn't there a form of trust between them now? Had he not proven that deep inside, they were one and the same?  
  
Kali made a rather uncomfortable shuffle and cleared her throat, signaling that his "collegues" had arrived.  
  
The one last puzzle piece was about to be set in place, and the ultimate game was about to begin. 


End file.
